by Carly Carson
"I want you," he said harshly. "Come." He pulled up his pants, grabbed her hand and headed down the hallway. When they reached his bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his shirt.
"Get undressed," he said.
Amanda hesitated, put off by his abruptness. She felt cheap, undressing like this casually, as if she were the paid escort she had sworn not to be. There was no romance in this practical disrobing. It was merely business that had to be performed before the business they intended to get down to. Of course, what they had between them wasn’t romance, so how could she expect him to behave in a romantic manner?
She had initiated sex, nothing more. He hadn’t agreed to pretend he cared for her, never mind loved her. She was being foolish, and if she tried to express any of this angst, he would have every right to be annoyed. It was only natural for two people planning to have sex to take off their clothes.
Her heart pounded unnaturally as she stood there, looking at him. Standing there in unbuckled pants, and a partially opened shirt, he upended her world. His broad chest was lightly covered with black hair, but she could still see his brown nipples centered in his perfectly formed chest muscles. Those nipples were sharply peaked. The realization made her fascination grow and she felt her eyes almost involuntarily following the line of dark hair that bisected his flat stomach until it disappeared beneath his partially opened pants. Yes, he was still aroused; there could be no mistaking that fact.
He stopped unbuttoning his shirt. "Have you changed your mind?" he asked calmly.
"I don’t know if I can do this, after all," she whispered. "It’s so cold."
"Sorry," he said. "I’m used to telling women what to do."
"Of course. When you're paying, you call the shots."
His eyes narrowed. "This is not a commercial transaction, Amanda. Let me also point out that you were the one who started this."
Her lip wanted to tremble. How had this gone so wrong? "I wanted to do something for you, Logan. Then, somehow, it turned into you dragging me down the hall and bossing me around." She knew she was on the verge of unreasonableness - she had started this - but she couldn't seem to continue.
His gray gaze watched her coolly. "Most women like it when I boss them around. To be honest, it seems the more I order a woman around, the more she likes it."
"How many times do I have to tell you, I am not most women!"
He stilled, like a lion in the moment before he pounces on his prey. Watchful. Unmoving. Evaluating his victim.
Then he changed direction. Like the clever predator he was, he adopted a new approach to get what he wanted. Even as she recognized his methods, she was helpless before them.
"You're right," he said softly. "You are not most women." He resumed unbuttoning his shirt, drawing it off and dropping his pants. He stood naked before her. "I shouldn't have interrupted what you were trying to do. I shouldn't have tried to take control."
He strode toward his bed, gloriously unconcerned with his nudity. "I'm going to lie down here, and let you do exactly what you want." He stretched out on the bed.
Amanda tried hard not to stare, though she feared she mostly failed. "What if I don't want to do anything?"
"I'll be disappointed," he said, still in that calm, unthreatening voice. "But I'll survive." He even managed that half-smile that always undid her.
She took two steps toward the bed. "You're diabolical. You know that?"
"I'm totally at your mercy. What more do you want?" He crossed his arms behind his head. "I'll keep my hands right here. While hoping that you're planning to start taking off those clothes. I feel horribly disadvantaged here."
"You feel no such thing."
Her tough words were in direct contrast to the hot melting inside of her. She reached out and touched what nature had designed him to display so blatantly.
"Your clothes," he said. His eyes met hers. "I'm begging here."
She smiled. And discarded her shirt and bra. She watched his chest rise and fall as he struggled to control his breathing. She leaned down and licked him again, slowly, enjoying his taste and his warmth.
His whole body jerked. "Mandy," he whispered. His hands moved into her hair.
She stood up and shimmied out of her skirt as his gaze burned her.
"Panties!"
She hooked a finger in the side of her underpants and peeled them down her hips, down her long legs, until they hit the floor. Then she stepped daintily out of them. She knew exactly what she was doing now. Sexual power roared through her as she saw the effect she was having on him. He didn't love her, but he definitely wanted her.
When she was free of all her clothes, she placed her right knee on the bed beside his hip. She ran her hands all over the middle part of his torso, everything she could reach—his hard, flat stomach, his hips solid with bone, his muscular thighs.
Last of all, she ran her hands over his eager, bobbing cock, and his round, dark-haired balls. She squeezed gently as he groaned with pleasure.
When she lifted her other leg over his body, giving him an intimate view of herself, she could see that he was nearly crazy with lust. As she was herself.
She rubbed herself over him, once, twice, and then she slowly impaled herself on him. He jerked again, pushing up into her hard, jolting her.
"My God," he said. "That feels so good." His hands grabbed her breasts and he ran his thumbs over her nipples.
She began to rise again, drawing out the move.
Abruptly, a look of pure horror crossed his face.
"Shit," he said. He grasped her hips and yanked her off him. "Condom!"
For one beat, Amanda felt nothing but shock as she lay flung to the side, like an unwanted doll. He hadn't been half as far gone in lust as she'd thought. Even now, he was reaching into a nightstand drawer.
In the next moment, she collected her thoughts. She should be grateful that he wanted to be careful. Even though it wasn't necessary. "I'm on the pill," she said.
He paid no attention to her words. Instead, he tore open a condom. Within seconds, he was back inside her, with him on top this time.
Amanda cried out as pleasure warred with reality.
Her body joined eagerly with his, reaching for the best angle, pressing against his solid hardness. But his actions had driven a spike of reality into her head, reminding her that what they were doing had no meaning beyond the superficial quest for erotic satisfaction.
Clearly, he didn't trust her about being on the pill. In her mind, or maybe in her heart, something hurt. As much as she told herself to enjoy the moment, it was hard to recapture the magic.
Feeling she'd gone too far to stop now, she made no effort to halt the proceedings. Logan noticed the change in her mood quickly. He slowed, and stopped moving, but didn't withdraw.
"I'm sorry," he said gruffly. "I didn't mean to destroy the mood."
Despite herself, she twitched around him where he'd invaded her. "It's all right."
He tipped up her chin so he could look down into her face. "I don't ever want to have children," he said. His voice was fierce.
Amanda shivered. Did he think she was trying to trick him?
"I told you I was on the pill," she said quietly. "I wouldn't lie to you about something so important."
He nodded. "I'm a careful man."
Not careful enough, a little voice whispered in her ear. If she hadn't been on the pill, she could have gotten pregnant even without an unprotected ejaculation.
He pulled out.
Pleasure shivered over her. That drag of his heated flesh felt good.
She realized he was removing the condom, and she sat up, feeling awkward. "I guess it's my turn to apologize."
He dropped the condom in a trash can and pulled on his pants. "No problem."
She couldn't doubt his determination on the subject of children. His eyes were pools of pain in a tired, strained face. But he wouldn't take even the simple pleasure she could give him, if it would draw him into a
potential emotional connection.
Something inside Amanda hurt badly. But she still had a choice to make. Whatever pain had afflicted him tonight was still present. Would she try to alleviate it? Or would she be the kind of person who nursed her own grievances, and pretended she didn't see where she could help?
Not that she was totally noble. Maybe her humming body craved him more than it worried about the heartache that waited for her.
She held out her hand.
Chapter 22
Logan took Mandy's hand, knowing he was a fool, but helpless to reject the comfort she offered. He'd had a terrible day. Grief and hopelessness had flooded every cell of his psyche. Surely he was entitled to a few minutes of the forgetfulness he'd find in Mandy's body.
But he couldn't hurt her further. She'd gotten a peek at the barrenness in his soul. Still, she offered herself. He was overwhelmed by the selflessness of her gesture.
She was not one to give her body carelessly, or randomly. He'd seen the affection in her eyes when she looked at him. He knew it wouldn't take much nurturing on his part for that affection to blossom into something more significant. But he also knew himself. He couldn't give her the emotion all women wanted in return for sharing their bodies.
So he would have to be as considerate as possible in taking advantage of her generosity.
He knelt beside her on the bed, and she flung her arms around his neck.
He removed them.
"Let me do this, Mandy." He pressed his lips to hers, gently, holding back when he only wanted to plunder her.
She kissed him back sweetly, letting him take the lead. He thrust into her mouth, needing that much at least. She opened wider, welcoming him. For a fraction of a second, he lost control, moving heavily over her, thrusting his leg between hers.
Lust roared through his body in a firebomb that almost blasted him back into cave man status, an animal, seeking pleasure regardless of the vessel.
But he'd maintained self-discipline for too long. He grabbed the thread of reason he still held and slowly, slowly, he regained control of his actions. He forced his mind to reclaim control of his body. He pulled back from her warm and wet mouth, a proxy for what he really wanted. Instead, he pressed kisses to her tender neck, moving down to her shoulder. He couldn't resist nipping her, and he turned her head to mark her beneath her ear.
Her limbs began to toss against the navy bed covering. He flung his leg over hers, holding her in place, feeling an unworthy male satisfaction that he could control her thus. He wanted her trembling and eager, begging for his body.
He lifted his mouth so he could focus on her breasts. One plump swell filled each hand and he played with them, ignoring her nipples until she arched her back, pushing them toward his mouth and he knew it was time to turn up the heat.
He dropped a kiss directly on one nipple, and then the other. Her moan shot heat throughout him. He settled in to lick and suck those nipples until he knew he'd drawn a coiled wire of lust from them to her core.
Her skin was so soft, her scent so enticing. He could have filled his mouth with her tits forever. But her need was growing, and his was pressing. He began to kiss his way down her body until he'd traveled below her belly button. Then he shifted to move between her legs, easing her thighs apart, feasting his eyes on the bounty spread before him.
He moved his thumbs to her opening, held them there for a moment, enjoying the view while she squirmed and murmured incoherently. When he couldn't wait any longer, he bent his head, licked deep inside her, and moved upward.
His tongue found the button he wanted to please, and there was no secret of her pleasure when he found it. Her hips thrust off the bed immediately, as she gave a low cry. "Logan!"
He couldn't answer, except with the finger he thrust into her. God, she was hot, and wet, and everything he'd ever wanted.
The thought rushed by, shocking him for a moment, but his mind was closing down as her climax clearly was ratcheting up.
She strained against him, whimpering, and he alternated licking with sucking, changing up his motion as soon as he felt her orgasm on the verge of erupting. As much as he wanted her to explode so he could plunge into her, he also needed to be sure he gave her an unforgettable experience.
He played her like a symphony, drawing in one sensation and then another, allowing each to build and almost crest, before drawing down to a quieter interlude, and then building again. Each peak rose taller than before, each rest fell on a higher plateau. He wanted the final climax to reach a crescendo in which nothing existed but an explosion of pure bliss.
When she was trembling and panting, when he knew he'd reached the limit of his restraint, he thrust another finger inside her, grabbed her hips with his free hand, and held her tight as she convulsed fiercely against him.
When he'd rolled on another condom and plunged inside her, he was secretly thrilled that she continued to tremble against him.
"Don't stop," she cried out. Her fingernails scored his back. "Keep doing exactly what you're doing."
"I'm the son of two musicians," he managed. "I know how to maintain a rhythm."
He pounded steadily into her, determined to bring her to another peak. But the more he was surrounded by her voice, her scent, and most especially, the soft curves of her body, the more his control slipped. Until he was driving into her without thought for anything but his own skyrocketing pleasure.
The cave man came back, and conquered him.
Amanda couldn't move while she waited for her heartbeat to calm down. Wow, that had been a mistake, but a delicious one. It was hard to regret it and she probably wouldn't be unhappy about it, except for the fact that Logan was, once again, distancing himself from her. He rolled off her, pulled off the condom, and leaned over the side of the bed to dispose of it. His behavior hurt more than it should, because it was nothing new. No matter how many times they had sex – she couldn't call it making love – he would always move away from her in the aftermath.
There was no post-coital glow with Logan.
With a sudden blur of motion, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Better to be the one who left. Too late, she realized she was naked, and he was watching. He might not want to touch her after sex, but he didn't mind having his gaze all over her.
She scurried over to the closet to look for something to throw on. The drawer where she'd placed her nightwear was ajar, but she knew what she'd find there. Rosie, in some kind of freakish attempt to play matchmaker, had packed only the nightgowns they'd purchased at L'Agent Provocateur. Amanda wasn't in the mood to issue that kind of invitation.
But she didn't have anything else to wear. With a sigh, she pulled out the least objectionable piece – a peach negligee that at least fell to her mid-thigh and didn't have provocative cutouts. It was semi-transparent, but the room was dark, and she'd be sure to stay on her side of the bed.
She pulled it over her head and sauntered casually back to bed. Unfortunately, she could feel his gaze on her for the entire trip.
"I like your lingerie." His deep voice caressed her.
"Good thing," she said airily. "You paid for it."
Even in the dim room, his white teeth flashed when he grinned. "I'm happy to see my money spent so wisely," he said.
"Rosie packed my suitcase. I guess this was her attempt to be funny." Amanda was determined to be light and cool, to match his distance with her own reserve.
"I'll have to give her a raise." Logan turned and propped himself on one elbow as Amanda climbed into bed, being careful to stick to the edge of the mattress.
"You should give her one anyway," she said. But she was thinking of Rosie's words about the lingerie making her feel sexy. There was something very sensuous about fine silk brushing over her naked skin. Or maybe it was the heated look in Logan's eyes that was making her body soften, and yearn, and demand that she move close enough to rub up against his hard frame.
She resisted.
His gaze fastened
onto her breasts, and she was helpless to stop her response. Her nipples poked through the thin peach silk.
Logan patted the bed. "What are you doing way over there?"
"You don't have another bed." She deliberately pretended to misunderstand him. "Mrs. MacDonald said it was okay for me to sleep here."
"Don't play games, Mandy."
"Do you mean to tell me that since I've succumbed to you once—?"
"Or twice," he interrupted, smiling. "Not that I'm counting."
"Excuse me!" She tried to be icy, but she could feel her nipples were still betraying her. "If I may finish a sentence, I hope you don't mean to say that I can never refuse you again."
He shook his head. "I'm just asking that you be honest about your—ah, interest." He reached across the cold bed and drew his forefinger along the top of the nightgown. Her body erupted in goose bumps. She wanted his rough, warm touch to move inside the top of the nightgown and play with her breasts like he had earlier.
He ventured under the silk, and she had to catch her breath.
"Sorry." She faked a quick yawn, hoping it might hide her pounding heart. "Time for Cinderella to turn back into a pumpkin."
"Wasn't it the coach that turned back into a pumpkin?"
"You know girly fairy tales?"
"I used to read them to my—" He halted, abruptly, his eyes darkening.
Amanda held her breath. "Your what, Logan?"
"Never mind." He reached behind himself, pressed something, and a soft light was diffused from beneath the top of the brushed nickel headboard. When he turned back to Amanda, he was much closer than he had been. His shoulders gleamed with sculpted muscle, and she felt small lying flat on her back while all that hard masculinity loomed over her.
"We have much better things to do than revisit the past," he said. He hooked a finger in the center of her heart-shaped gown. Before she could imagine what he might do, he tore the gown right down the middle. By the time Amanda gasped, the sides had been laid open and she was naked before him once more, framed in silk, feeling like a pagan offering.
"This was brand new!" she protested. But her real protest was against the tension she saw in him, the subdued anger over something in his past that he'd just displaced onto her gown. Why wouldn't he tell her what tormented him so?
